The end of July
Means the summer’s half gone,
Though the season’s activities
Keep going on.
Yet with camps winding down,
School supplies on the shelves,
We must face what’s ahead -
No deceiving ourselves.
I, for one, will not miss
The hot weather and sweat
And, as autumn approaches,
I surely won’t fret.
I look forward to jackets
And crisp chilly air,
Back to all those routines
For which we must prepare.
Though I’m jumping the gun -
There’s still August ahead,
Which I fear will not match
How July’s somehow fled.
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